


Mirrors

by LuckyBanana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Image, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Possible eating disorders, Reader-Insert, Shower Sex, Sweet Dean, Triggers, Vampires, insecure reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7653421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyBanana/pseuds/LuckyBanana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though the boys told you how much easier things had become since you started hunting together, you knew they just saw you as a colleague. Maybe a sister, or a good friend. </p><p>Certainly nothing more. </p><p>You didn't look like those girls that the Winchesters picked up in bars. You were a warrior, but you were invisible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirrors

Your heart was pounding out of your chest, sparks of adrenaline making you dizzy. Sweat escaped your hairline and rolled down your forehead. You slapped your palm onto the cool marble countertop, and chugged a huge pint of water as if it was your lifeblood. As you slowly regained control of your breath, you looked over to the large table at the centre of the room. The boys looked at you, Sam with cocked eyebrows, and Dean with a thoroughly amused look on his face. 

“What??” you asked, annoyed.

“Uh, are you okay??” Sam asked.

“Fine.” You're sure they could tell that you were lying. Your cheeks were beet red, betraying your complete and utter overexertion. 

“Have a good run?” Dean asked, humour in his voice. 

“Yes.” you said tersely, and marched out of the room. You wished they wouldn't make fun of you like that. 

You were a good hunter. Smart, calculating, and clever. You could outsmart a demon before he even knew what was happening. Your plans were first rate, your research skills, unmatched. Your knowledge of lore, ancient texts and demonic rites could fill a library. Hell, your computer skills impressed even Sam. But one thing always kept you at a disadvantage. If it came down to a chase, you were toast. 

You weren't out of shape exactly… you were actually quite strong. But you were big. And tall. And heavy. Running was not your forte, and it never was. And considering how much agility was important to your survival, it was a constant source of anxiety for you. Not to mention the effect it had on your self esteem. You were smart, to be sure, but you weren't...small, girly, feminine...whatever you wanted to call it. You weren't hot. Not in the conventional way. You didn't look like those girls that the Winchesters picked up in bars. You were a warrior, but you were invisible. 

Even though the boys told you often (especially Sam) how much easier things had become since you started hunting together, you knew they just saw you as a colleague. Maybe a sister, or a good friend. Certainly nothing more. 

You peeled off your sticky clothes, staring at yourself in the full length mirror in the bathroom. You frowned at the lumps and bumps on your body. You climbed into the shower, letting the warm water mix with your tears. 

 

You sat down to dinner, your eyes red and swollen. Thankfully, the boys either didn't notice, or were ignoring your distress. Sam smiled kindly as he handed you your salad from the take away bag. “Are you sure you don't want anything else?" he asked. “That was a pretty intense workout you had today.” 

You just shook your head as you watched Dean shovelling a burger into his mouth. He gestured to you, offering you some of his fries. You shook your head again furiously, as if it was poison. The boys exchanged bewildered looks. 

“Hey, I got Planet Terror cued up on the DVD. You in?” Dean asked, mouth full.

“No, I think I'm going to head to bed early.” You said, chewing on lettuce. 

“Are you sure? I'll save you a seat.” Dean smiled. As tempting as it was to cuddle up to Dean on the couch, you declined. He was just being nice. 

 

By ten o'clock, you were wrapped in blankets up to your neck, snuggled in bed, about three quarters of the way through The Half Blood Prince. Your stomach gurgled, but you ignored it. Enraptured in the story, you almost didn't hear the gentle knocking on your bedroom door. 

Not waiting for an answer, Dean slowly opened the door. He was holding a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on it. You ignored it when your stomach gurgled again. 

“Hey kiddo,” Dean said. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Thanks Dean,” you forced a smile. Why were they always trying to feed you? You shook the unkind thoughts out of your head. Dean was just trying to be nice.

Dean put the plate down on your bedside table and perched on the end of your bed. You sat up to meet him, the blankets falling away from your shoulders, revealing your skimpy white tank top and lack of brazier. Dean’s eyes quickly snapped to your chest, then back up, almost too quickly to notice, then he diverted his eyes casually to another part of the room. You quickly snatched up the blanket and pulled it back over your shoulders. 

Dean cleared his throat, still not meeting your eyes. “Hey Y/N…” he said gently. “...is everything okay?” You didn't answer, and he continued. “Because you know...anything you need, anything at all...I'm here for you. We’re here for you.” 

You felt like a total bitch. Over the last little while you were too busy wallowing in self pity to notice that Sam and Dean were worried about you. You pulled your arm out of the blankets and placed it gently on Dean’s. 

“Thanks, Dean. That means a lot to me,” you said. “But really, I'm fine. Just...hormonal and tired I guess.” 

Dean smiled and nodded. He didn't look like he believed you. He grabbed your hand in his and squeezed it lightly. Finally, Dean met your gaze and his green eyes sparkled at yours. Colour rushed to your cheeks and your breath caught in your throat. You were a pretty affectionate person. You were always touching and hugging the boys, but Dean rarely touched you. His hand was warm. 

“Well, good talk.” Dean let go of your hand and got up, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but you. “Yeah...well...nite.” he said, and quietly left the room.

Finally, your heart rate went back to normal and you shook your head. It was getting harder and harder for you to hide how much you completely and utterly adored Dean. How could any sane woman help herself? Forget that he's gorgeous. He's also brave and sweet and hilarious. It was hopeless. Dean was always kind to you, but it was a distant kindness, never too close, never too intimate. You frowned at the sandwich on your bedside table. You got up from the bed, grabbed the plate and tipped the sandwich into the waste paper basket. 

 

The following night, you padded into the kitchen to fetch a cup of tea, no milk, no sugar. You were wrapped up to your neck in your ratty blue housecoat. 

“Oh no you don’t!” you heard Dean come up behind you. He grabbed you gently by the arm and dragged you away from the counter. “You're not moping around the bunker tonight. We’re going out. Get dressed.” He lead you to your room and shut you in. 

You figured it was useless to fight, when Dean made up his mind, there was no changing it. You did your hair and makeup, avoiding the mirror as much as possible. Throwing on a billowy black dress, you headed out to the car. Sam and Dean were already waiting for you. You climbed in behind Sam. You always sat behind Sam, that way you had a clearer view of Dean in the driver’s seat. 

Still deep into your pity party, you weren't overly interested in watching Dean cruise for chicks, but you were interested in getting drunk. An hour later, two shots and two beers in, you were feeling pretty loose. Your recent diet had caused your tolerance to go way down, and pretty soon, you stopped counting the calories in your drinks, and your self consciousness (almost) melted away. Dean surprised you by sitting by your side, apparently not interested in anything but laughing at you as your words began to get louder and more slurred. 

The jukebox in the corner turned over, and started to play It's Getting Hot in Herre by Nelly. You slammed back your third shot and screamed, “I LOVE THIS SONG!” bouncing out of your seat. You sprang to the middle of the room to join the other drunk couples bopping to the music. You were lost in your groove when you felt a pair of hands reach around you and grab your waist. You spun around to see a very tall, very handsome man with jet black hair smiling down at you. Pleased with the physical contact, you flung your hands around the man’s neck and started to grind up on him. The booze was making it hard to see, you were dizzy, but euphoric. About half a second passed before you stumbled, as the tall man released your hips from his grasp. 

“May I cut in?” The tall man snorted in disgust as Dean shoved him away from you. The tall man retreated, and Dean took his place. 

“What the hell, Dean!?” You shouted over the music. “What's with the cock block?” You weren't overly angry, because now Dean’s body was pressed against yours. 

“That guy was a creep,” Dean said. “And this song sucks.” 

Your inhibitions were basically non existent at that moment, so you replied, “YOU suck.” 

Dean pulled a face and looked down at you. He stopped dancing and was holding you a little too tightly. “What's gotten into you? You've been a real bitch the last couple of weeks.” 

You were beyond pissed. “Who are you calling a bitch?” You yelled, and pushed Dean away. You tottered over a little bit, and Dean braced himself to catch you. 

You steadied yourself. “Just leave me alone, Dean!” you grabbed your throbbing head. “I need some air,” you said as you turned to leave out the backdoor. Thankfully, Dean didn't follow you. 

As the cool air of the night hit you, your dizziness began to dissipate. You were so frustrated. Dean wanted to know what was bothering you...was he really so clueless? You swore at yourself. You had to accept the fact that you and Dean were never going to happen. It didn't help that Dean had been all up in your face lately. You felt like you were about to cry, so slowly you began to walk, away from the bar and into the field that lay behind it. 

The moon was full and beautiful in the near pitch black sky. Your head began to clear finally, and your breath began to return to normal. The silence of the night was broken, when you heard the faint rustle of grass just behind you. You turned around to find yourself face to face with the tall man with jet black hair. 

He grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you. “Hey babe, I thought we were getting along so well!” he snarled, before reaching down and attempting to bite you on the neck. 

In that split second, you weighed your options. You were too weak to fight him. Your only hope was to run. Fast. 

You wrenched your body free of him, and bolted. The bar was about 100 yards away, but it seemed like the other side of the world. The tall man quickly regrouped and started to pursue you. You could almost feel his breath on the back of your neck as you pushed yourself to flee. Your breath was choking you, your legs burned and it felt like your chest was going to cave in. 

Only a few seconds passed before he managed to grab the hem of your dress and wrenched you back violently. You crashed to the ground, the wind knocked out if you. You lay on your back, struggling to breathe, unable to act. 

Before you could register what was happening, suddenly the vampire’s head disconnected from his neck, spun, and flew to the ground, leaving the remains of his body to crumple and collapse into the high grass. 

“Are you okay??!” Dean shouted, dropping to his knees next to you, his knife glistening with fresh blood. 

You'd regained your ability to breathe, and sat up sharply. You almost died, but you weren't afraid. You were furious. Furious at yourself for not being able to take care of yourself. You sat in stunned silence before Dean grabbed your shoulders and shouted again, “Hey!! Are you okay??!!” 

You snapped. “STOP SAVING ME!” you screamed. 

“Have you lost your damn mind??” shouted Dean.

“You shouldn't have to keep saving me! I should be able to save myself Goddamit! I can't even outrun a vampire! If I wasn't so fucking lazy...so Goddamned...FAT!” you were barely coherent. 

Dean plopped on to the ground to sit next to you. Tears were pouring down your bright red cheeks. 

“Is this why you've been acting like a crazy person?? Not eating? Working out like a psycho?” Dean asked. “You really ARE nuts…”

You started to get up, wanting to get away from Dean, get away from your crippling shame, but Dean put his hand on your shoulder to stop you. 

“Stop! Alright? You're an amazing hunter. You know that right??” Dean was frustrated. “So you're not a good runner, who cares??? This is why we don't hunt alone. We got each others backs! Do you really think Bobby could run a four minute mile? Christ.” Dean shook his head. 

“I know but…” you couldn't get the words out. You were embarrassed, you felt like a child.

Dean just stared at you. Then he chuckled to himself, his expression turning from frustrated to amused. “You're a dummy you know that?” you were about to speak when Dean got up on his knees and grabbed your face. Slowly he lowered his own and kissed you.

You were too stunned to kiss back. “What the hell Winchester?” you whispered when he pulled back.

“You are stunning. Who cares if you're not a supermodel. It makes me so angry that you don't see it. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met.”

For a second you didn’t believe him. But when Dean smiled down at you, you knew he was being sincere. You grabbed him by his plaid collar and kissed him deeply. He lowered himself down on to you, pushing your back into the soft grass. “I assume that means you approve?” he laughed into your hair. 

“Shut up and take me home,” you said, realizing that you were sweaty, dirty and covered in vamp blood. 

Dean chuckled and rose to his feet. He pulled you up by the hand and twirled you in his arms before setting you down on your feet. He reached into his pocket and sent Sam a quick text, before escorting you back to the car. 

 

The ride back to the bunker was silent, you could hardly believe what had happened in the field. Dean thought you were beautiful? He’d kissed you, but what did it mean? It didn’t take long for you to get your answer. As soon as you entered the empty bunker, Dean grabbed you by the waist, pressing your bodies close together.

He brushed the hair out of your face and said, “Why don’t we get cleaned up?” without breaking your embrace, Dean lead you to the bathroom. 

Dean closed the door quietly, his pupils were dilated, and he looked very serious. Your heart was pounding with anticipation. Dean looked at you like you were a glass of water in the desert. It was rather intimidating. Dean took off his shirt, revealing his perfectly sculpted chest. You were so nervous you started to giggle. 

“What?” Dean said, looking mildly hurt. 

“Nothing,” you smiled, “You’re just...beautiful you know that?” 

Dean smiled and stepped towards you. “Is it okay if I do this?” Dean whispered, as he began kissing your neck, fiddling with the strap of your black dress. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he started sucking. Your skin tingled everywhere that he touched. You mumbled in the affirmative, and you felt Dean smile against your skin. 

It felt like your brain reset. Was this really happening? Dean was unzipping your dress, letting it fall to the floor. You never thought that Dean would be touching you like this. It felt right. Suddenly Dean stepped back, leaving you cold at the loss of contact. He stared at you, eyes aflame, as you stood naked before him. You shivered, and Dean licked his lips. Without wasting any more time, Dean leaned over and started the shower, letting the room fill with thick steam. 

Dean undressed himself, and you were disappointed that the dense mist obscured your view. It seemed that Dean was struggling with the same problem, so he reached out for you. Suddenly, his hands were everywhere, touching and caressing you in all your private places. You felt him push his hardness against your middle, and you needed him inside you. 

Dean lifted you by the waist with ease and placed you under the warm shower spray. He joined you and kissed you savagely, warm saliva mixing with the hot water. You tasted each other, warm, sweet and desperate. Your wet bodies slid against each other, your eyes closed tightly, it was all skin and hot breath. You couldn’t take the teasing any longer, and you reached between you to hold him in your wet hand. Dean broke your kiss long enough to let his head loll gently on his shoulders as you worked your hand around him. You reached forward to gently bite his exposed neck. 

Dean emitted a small growl before pulling your leg up roughly, spreading you wide for him. For a moment, you thought you would fall, but he gripped you so tightly, you knew it was going to leave bruises. 

Dean reached down and lined himself up with your body. Gently, he rubbed himself up and down your soaking wet centre before pushing himself into you with agonizing slowness. You thought you were going to pass out, the water was so hot, and your desire was so intense, but Dean was barely moving. 

You let out a small squeak when he bottomed out inside you, he was large, and it was almost overwhelming. You reached out and grabbed his slick behind and forced him deeper inside you. Dean looked at you square in the eyes, like an animal. He began to rock inside you, working up to a steady pace. Soon, he began to lose control and was pounding into you, your back slapping against the wet wall of the shower. All you could feel was Dean, his hands all over you, his mouth on yours, forcing coiled tendrils of painful pleasure to erupt from your belly. You clenched down on him, hard as you came. You momentarily blacked out, the pleasure was so intense. Luckily, Dean was close behind you, and he moaned softly as he found his release. 

Gently, Dean placed you down in the tub, your center was throbbing. He pulled you to his chest and stood under the warm rain of water, blissful and quiet. Soon, the water began to run cold, so he shut off the shower and pulled you out into the relatively cool air of the bathroom. 

Dean reached over and wiped his hand across the foggy mirror. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, and kissed the top of your head. When you looked in the mirror, your heart swelled at the sight. You could still see all the lumps and bumps, the cellulite, the scars. All the imperfections of your body were still there. You knew that it would take some time until you felt as beautiful as Dean thought you were. But in that moment, with you and Dean intertwined, flesh against flesh, it was perfection.


End file.
